


Plane Frustrations

by LisaDuncansTwin



Series: Life's Little Ups and Downs [1]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M, Other: See Story Notes, Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 07:35:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/795507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LisaDuncansTwin/pseuds/LisaDuncansTwin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A simple plane trip home isn't so simple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plane Frustrations

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written and betaed in 2002, left unaltered. Thanks to Diana for the beta. I did make additions after the fact, so. you've been warned. ;) Just another adventure from my life that poor Blair gets subjected to.

Sunday, February 3, 2002 

Arriving at the Baltimore-Washington International airport, Blair and Simon waited for their luggage, and then stepped out into the cold February evening to catch the courtesy van to their hotel. They were in town for a symposium on profiling criminals. Jim was supposed to have accompanied Blair, but at the last minute, he had been subpoenaed to testify before the grand jury in a murder case, so Simon had come instead. 

They arrived at the hotel, checked in, requesting two beds instead of the original one, and then had a quick dinner. The meetings would start bright and early the next morning, conveniently in the hotel where they were staying. Blair talked to Jim nightly, calling from the bank of payphones off the lobby, using the prepaid phone card Jim had given him. 

Four days later, Blair watched Simon pack his suits and mess kit. 

"Damn Chief of Police thinks the department would fall apart if I stayed away too long," Simon said, stuffing his dirty laundry in a corner of his bag. 

"Simon, I can still get a flight..." 

"No, Sandburg. You need to go to the banquet tonight, besides, after what it cost to change my ticket, we need to save every penny we can," Simon commented, zipping his bag closed. "Damn Commissioner will probably want to audit us again this year anyway." 

Hefting his bag, Simon grabbed his overcoat and started for the door, Blair following. 

"What time do you get in?" Blair asked as the elevator descended. 

"Just after ten." 

"I'll make sure Jim's there to pick you up," Blair said, smiling as they stepped out into the lobby. 

"You don't have to do that, I can just..." 

"Catch a cab? And pay a fortune?" Blair shook his head. "Jim's not doing anything, he can pick you up." 

"You sure about that?" 

"Have I ever led you wrong?" Holding his hands up in surrender, Blair continued, "In the last week, have I ever led you wrong?" 

Laughing, Simon nodded. "Okay. Thanks." 

Blair watched Simon climb into the courtesy van and then pull away. 

Going back to his room, Blair checked his watch and considered calling Jim. Giving in, Blair grabbed the phone even as the door was slamming shut. 

"Ellison," Jim said, answering his cell phone. 

"Hey." 

"Hey yourself." Blair could hear the smile in Jim's voice. 

"Simon's plane should get in about ten. I told him you'd be there to pick him up." 

"Thanks." 

"Hey, it's not like you have a big date or something." 

"I might," Jim said, grinning. 

"Let me put it this way, you _better_ not have a date!" 

Laughing, Jim answered softly, "Nope, just me and my right hand. And maybe a little lube. Perhaps a toy. Or two." 

"Awww, Jim, don't do this to me." 

"Do what?" 

"Hey!" Blair said, considering the topic of their conversation. "Where are you?" 

"Now you ask me that?" Jim asked. "I'm on my way home if you must know." 

"Good." 

"Now," Jim teased, "where was I? Oh yeah, a toy or two. Hey, do we still have any of that booty oil?" 

"Jim," Blair whined. 

"Yes?" 

"I gotta go!" 

"Got something to take care of yourself?" 

"Oh shut up." 

"Love you, too, Chief." 

"I'll call you in the morning. Night." 

"Goodnight." 

Hand still on the receiver, Blair contemplated the bedside clock. There just wasn't enough time to take a quick shower before the banquet, and there was no way in hell he was going to show up at a cop function smelling like sex. 

"You'll just have to wait," Blair said, and then carefully stood up to get changed into his suit. 

* * *

The wake up call came way too early for Blair's taste, but with the new security restrictions in place plus the added check in for carrying his service revolver, he had to be at the airport at least three hours in advance. 

Arriving at the airport at 6:00 a.m., Blair sighed when he saw the long check in line already formed, but took his place at the end. The line moved more quickly than he had thought it would, and within thirty minutes, he was at the counter requesting window seats. 

Boarding passes in hand, Blair looked at his watch and realized he had just over two hours before his plane, so he decided to scout out the airport. Finding a coffee shop, Blair grabbed a latte and a newspaper and sat down to wait, keeping an eye on the time. 

Around half past seven, he tossed his cup in the trash and his paper into a recycling bin, and then picked up his backpack and headed for the security checkpoint. 

He showed his ticket and ID, and then proceeded to the metal detectors and x-ray machines. Gesturing to security personnel, Blair pulled out his badge and the papers authorizing him to carry his service revolver on the plane. He was then escorted to a small room where a clerk verified his paperwork and then sent him on his way. He wished he could check his gun as easily as he checked his toenail clippers or straight razor, but even off duty, his gun had to be on his person. 

Finally past security, Blair found his gate and sat down to wait for his boarding call. 

The first announcement came at half past eight, for first class and passengers needing more time. He watched a young couple with an infant gather their belongings and board, and silently prayed that they wouldn't sit anywhere near him. 

His group was finally called for boarding, and he picked up his backpack and waited his turn. Making his way down the aisle, Blair saw how few people were already aboard. He found his seat, 22F, stashed his backpack under the seat in front of him and then went in search of a pillow and blanket. It didn't take long, and he was back in his seat, fastening his seat belt; he didn't have any seat mates yet. 

When he assumed all the passengers had boarded, Blair relaxed back into his seat. He had the whole row to himself. And then he heard a woman in the row behind him. 

"I'm going to move up so y'all can spread out." 

Glancing over his shoulder, Blair watched the woman in the aisle seat gather her belongings and move to his row. He smiled politely and pulled a magazine out of the seat pocket. 

The flight attendants went though their safety spiel, and then it was time for take off. 

Blair settled into his seat and closed his eyes for a quick nap. Hearing the attendants come around with a continental breakfast, Blair stretched and accepted the tray and asked for a glass of orange juice. He ate the small bowl of cereal, but pushed aside the cinnamon raisin bagel; there were few foods Blair didn't like, but raisins were one of them, no matter how they were presented. 

After the attendants came by and removed the breakfast trays, Blair reclined his seat a bit and then tried to sleep a little more. 

* * *

The captain announced that they would be landing soon, so Blair brought his seat all the way up and stretched his tired back; his gun felt like it was permanently fused to his spine. Looking out the window, all Blair could see was fog. All the way down, the fog surrounded them, until just before landing, it cleared. 

Safely on the ground, Blair checked his next boarding pass against the airport diagram from the airline magazine. It looked like he would have to take a shuttle from one terminal to another. Checking his watch, Blair saw that they had landed early, and he contemplated grabbing a snack with the extra time in the airport. 

Feeling like they had been taxiing a long time, Blair looked out the window and saw sleet coming down. The plane came to a stop but they weren't near the terminal yet. After waiting a few minutes, the captain came on over the loud speaker. 

"Well, it looks like we're going to be here for a few minutes. With the sleet, it's taking longer for planes to back away from the gates. The tower is saying it should only be a thirty minute wait." 

A collective groan was heard throughout the plane. 

* * *

Thirty minutes later the captain updated them. 

"It's taking longer than they thought to de-ice the planes, so we still don't have a gate. The tower is telling us it might be another forty-five minutes, but we've heard that some planes have been waiting over two hours. I'll let y'all know more when I do." 

Another groan was heard throughout the plane. 

"Since we're not moving, I'm going to turn the fasten seat belt sign off, and allow y'all to use your cell phones. If we have to move, I'll turn the seat belt sign back on, and you'll need to turn your phones off." 

Blair watched as a number of people got up and opened the overhead bins, getting their cell phones out; he hadn't brought his, seeing no reason for it since he would be with Simon or at the hotel. _It's never leaving my side again,_ Blair thought to himself, looking at the phone in the back of the middle seat. 

He knew it cost a fortune to use, a fee to connect and the fee per minute, but he wasn't sure when they would arrive at the airport and what he would find when he got inside. Lifting his hip, Blair pulled his wallet from his back pocket and pulled out his American Express(tm) card. It was actually Jim's account, but Jim had added him a couple of months after Blair had moved in; it had been for emergencies only back then, but now, as partners, Blair could use it however he needed. And right now, he needed to use it. 

Swiping the card through the reader on the side, Blair waited for the dial tone. Hearing it, he dialed Jim's cell phone, but instead of Jim's comforting voice, Blair heard the mechanical voice mail message. 

"Hey, it's me. I'm stuck on the plane in Dallas. We've been here for about an hour and a half, we can't get to a gate. I guess my connections are shot. I don't know. I'll try and call you later if I find out anything. Bye." 

Returning the phone to the base, Blair dropped his wallet into his backpack, hoping he would need it sooner rather than later. 

* * *

Partially snoozing, Blair listened to the woman behind him talk on her cell phone. 

"Carrie, can you check and see if my connections are still intact? All flights out of Dallas are cancelled? Wow. Okay, then can you make me a reservation for tomorrow morning, and I guess I'll need a hotel for tonight. Really? All the hotels near the airport are booked? Yeah, I guess. Is it very far from the airport?" 

Rolling his eyes, Blair thought, _Great, I'm gonna be stuck sleeping on the floor of the airport. Wonderful._

Eyeing the blanket covering his legs, Blair decided to make sure it ended up in his backpack when he got off the plane, just in case. 

Deciding to try Jim one more time, Blair pulled his wallet out of his backpack and went though the whole process of connecting, this time calling Jim's desk. 

"Connor." 

"Megan? It's Blair." 

"Still stuck in Dallas, Sandy?" 

"Yeah. Is Jim around?" 

"No, he had to run down to evidence, but I can give him a message." 

"Okay. Just tell him that I'm not sure when I'll get in, and to just go home and I'll call from the airport when I land in Cascade." 

"Are you sure?" 

"Yeah, from what I've heard, all flights out of Dallas are cancelled, so I might be spending the might here." 

"Okay, Sandy, take care of yourself." 

"Thanks." 

He hung up, wishing he had gotten to talk to Jim. 

* * *

Thirty minutes later, the captain made an announcement. 

"Well, it looks like we have a gate. We're going to be taxiing over to it in a few minutes, so I need y'all to turn off your cell phones and prepare for arrival." 

Tightening his belt, Blair then shoved his backpack under the seat in front of him, anticipating getting off the plane and using the bathroom. 

* * *

They finally got to their gate, the seat belt light flickered off and people started the rush to stand and wait to deplane. Unbuckling his seat belt, Blair pulled his backpack into his lap and, trying to be as subtle as possible, shoved the blanket and pillow inside. Waiting, Blair stretched his legs as best he could. He was glad Jim wasn't with him; Jim never would have survived two hours stuck on a plane, not able to walk around freely. 

Patiently, Blair let some other anxious passengers get off before him, and then followed them. There was a man waiting at the end of the boarding ramp, informing passengers where to go to make their next connection. 

"Cascade?" Blair asked, already looking around. 

"Gate B3." 

"Thanks." 

Looking around, Blair finally spotted the current gate information, he was at gate A32. Remembering from the airport diagram that there was a tram near gate A29, Blair started in that direction. 

He spotted a restroom and made a quick detour. Airplanes were wonderful inventions, but peeing on board was something he could do without except in an emergency. 

Exiting the bathroom, Blair spotted a bank of arrival and departure monitors and stepped closer to double check his gate information. 

He noticed that his original flight hadn't left yet, and was departing in half an hour. He also saw the information for the flight the gate attendant had directed him to. Flipping a mental coin, Blair decided to try and catch his original flight at gate C29. 

Walking quickly, Blair found the escalator down to the tram and boarded. The ride took less than six minutes but it felt much longer. When it stopped at the B terminal, Blair almost got off, but decided that it would be better to catch his original flight if that was possible. 

At the next stop, he got off and rushed up the escalator and hurried to gate C29. Walking up, Blair expected to see passengers waiting and an attendant collecting boarding passes, but none of that was in appearance. Stepping up to the desk, Blair handed his boarding pass to the attendant. 

"I'm not sure where I'm supposed to be," he said, smiling. 

"Okay." 

The attendant quickly punched in some information on the keyboard. 

"It looks like you need to be at Gate B3, which is boarding right now. Let me get you a new boarding pass." 

She started punching in more information, and he requested, "Can you get me an aisle seat?" She only nodded. 

Reaching for the new boarding pass, the attendant looked confused. 

"What a great time for it to run out." She efficiently slid the empty box out and replaced it with a new, full one, and in a minute Blair's new boarding pass was in his hand. 

Hurrying back the way he had come, Blair glanced at his watch; he still had twenty-five minutes. Getting on the tram, Blair took a seat and looked at his new boarding pass. Seat 32C. _Great, any closer to the back and I could be sitting in the bathroom._

Reaching terminal B again, Blair exited the tram and hurried up the escalator, taking the stairs two at a time. Walking along the empty corridor, Blair was surprised to see another set of escalators; he descended, checking his watch again. 

Looking at the signs, Blair took a sharp right and headed for gate B3. The terminal was nearly empty, a cleaning woman and airline staff the only people he saw. Nearing the gate, Blair heard an announcement. 

"Will passengers Jones, Bradshaw, Sandburg and Belmondo please report to gate B3." 

Feeling like waving his ticket at them, Blair wondered who they thought he was as he rushed up to the gate, only one other passenger in sight. 

Thrusting his ticket at the gate agent, Blair tried to catch his breath. 

"Thank you, sir. Could you step over to security and let them search you." It wasn't a question. 

_You have got to be kidding me,_ Blair thought, barely controlling himself, but he stepped over to the partitioned off space and set his backpack on the table. 

"I'm a police officer. My badge is in the outer pocket along with the papers for my gun, which is at the small of my back," he informed them, hoping to hurry the process along. 

He was instructed to turn around with his hands spread while they verified his paperwork. Then he was patted down, mindful of the gun, and finally allowed to board the plane. 

Carefully, he picked his way down the aisle, trying not to jostle anybody unnecessarily. Reaching his seat, he saw someone already sitting there. 

"I think that's my seat," he informed the man, showing his ticket. 

"No problem," the man said, standing and moving back two rows. 

Stashing his backpack, Blair quickly took his seat and buckled his seat belt. He checked his watch and saw that it was almost time for them to leave. He leaned back and waited. 

Fifteen minutes later found him still waiting, and the captain making an announcement. 

"I'm sorry folks, it looks like we can't pull away from the gate just yet. I'll keep you updated as I hear anything new." 

_Hurry up and wait._

* * *

Forty-five minutes later the captain announced that they were departing the gate. The flight attendants came around and made sure everyone was ready to take off; Blair was more than ready. 

They seemed to taxi for an awful long time before coming to a stop. The captain's voice came over the speakers again. 

"Well, we're in line to be de-iced, but there are about twenty planes in front of us, and it's taking about fifteen to twenty minutes for each one. I'm gonna turn the engines off to conserve fuel. Feel free to move about the cabin." 

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Blair mentally totaled up their expected wait time, but the final answer was too unimaginable to actually consider. 

Pulling a journal from this backpack, Blair tried to occupy his time. 

* * *

An hour and a half, two bags of snack mix and a glass of water later, the captain finally made an announcement. 

"In a few minutes, we're going to be pulling up to the de-icing pit. It's taking about thirty to thirty-five minutes to de-ice the planes, and then we'll be on our way." 

Guestimating fifteen minutes before the de-icing process began, then thirty-five for the process, and adding in flying time, Blair thought he might land in Cascade at about six-ish. Now all he had to do was call and inform Jim, and then cross his fingers and pray. 

Reaching for the phone, Blair's seat mate asked, "You're not going to use that, are you?" 

Blair nodded an affirmative. 

Shaking his head, the man said, "It costs a fortune; use mine." 

"Thank you." 

The man pulled his phone out and turned it on, checking for power level and then handed it to Blair. Trying Jim's cell phone, Blair got no answer, not even the voice mail system, so he hung up. He didn't want to waste time on the generous man's cell phone, so he dialed their home number. 

After the outgoing message stopped and the machine beeped, Blair said, "Jim? Are you there? Okay, well, I think we're gonna be taking off soon, so we might be landing around six. I'll call again when we land. What happened to your cell phone, by the way?" 

Ending the call, Blair handed it back to the guy beside him. "Thank you so much." 

"No problem." 

* * *

An hour later they finally took off. The flight attendants came around offering more snack mix and drinks. Blair knew it probably wasn't the best idea in the world, but he ordered a coke and asked for a bottle of Jim Beam; it had been a long day, and the day wasn't even over yet. 

Feeling more relaxed, Blair leaned his head against the seat rest and dozed on and off for the remainder of the flight. 

* * *

The captain's announcement about landing woke him from an odd dream. He checked his seat belt, made sure his seat was upright, and waited for landing. His head ached, but he knew it wasn't from the small amount of alcohol he'd drunk, although it hadn't helped. 

The plane landed and taxied to the gate; several passengers clapped, glad to be at their destination. Arriving at their gate, the seat belt sign went off and people jumped up to stretch and move around. Looking at his watch, Blair counted up the hours spent waiting and flying; he had spent longer waiting on a plane than actually flying. 

Shaking his head, Blair picked up his backpack and pulled out the blanket he had pilfered from the first flight. He was glad its use hadn't been necessary. 

Standing, Blair stretched his arms over his head, his outer flannel shirt lifting, his holster showing. Turning around, he noticed the startled look on his seat mate's face, and realized what had happened. Fishing out his badge from his backpack, Blair reassured the man that everything was fine. 

"Can never be too sure anymore," the man told him, and Blair nodded, agreeing. 

Following other passengers off the plane, Blair made the long hike down the terminal, wondering about his luggage and if Jim had gotten his message. 

Past security, people waited for their family and friends; Blair looked around, hoping to see Jim. And when he finally did, Blair couldn't stop smiling. Jim's arms opened and Blair walked right into them, wrapping his arms around Jim. 

"God, it's good to be home," Blair said into Jim's neck. 

"Glad you're home safe." 

Blair stepped back and smiled at Jim. 

"What happened to your cell phone? How long have you been here?" 

Laughing, Jim took Blair's hand, and they walked towards baggage claim. 

Jim explained how his cell phone had fallen during a chase and been crushed by a car while they waited for Blair's luggage. 

"Only you, man." 

Jim laughed. "And only you could get stuck in Dallas during a ice storm." 

The conveyer stopped without producing Blair's bag. 

"Shit, that's what I hate about changing flights." 

An airport attendant's voice came over the loud speaker. "If your bag hasn't arrived from the Dallas flight, you can come fill out a missing luggage form. There is another flight from Dallas landing in a few minutes, so you might want to wait." 

Looking at Jim, Blair shrugged and looked for a place to sit down. 

They sat close together and Blair asked again, "How long have you been here?" 

Smiling sheepishly, Jim answered, "Since one when you were supposed to land originally." 

"What? Didn't you get any of my messages?" 

"Yeah, I got them all. Simon paged me twice, after your call to Megan and to him. I just...I didn't want to leave." 

Blair squeezed Jim's hand. "Thanks." 

Jim squeezed back. "So, where we going for dinner?" 

Laughing, Blair answered, "Somewhere with lots of food, I'm starving!" 

"Peppertree Steak House?" 

"Works for me," Blair said, already imagining what he would order. "They've got that great artichoke and spinach dip." 

"Yeah, and the 24 oz. steak." 

"Like you need that much beef!" Blair said, trying to pat Jim's stomach. "How much Wonderburger did you eat while I was gone?" 

Catching Blair's wandering hands, Jim said, "I'll have you know I didn't go there once." 

"Nah, I bet you went there twice!" The look on Jim's face was answer enough. "I knew it!" 

"Oh shut up." 

Trying to stifle a grin, Blair said, "Love you, too." 

* * *

Thirty minutes later the luggage from the second Dallas flight made its way around the conveyer belt. Jim spotted Blair's neon orange bag quickly, and plucked it off the belt and then escorted Blair out the door. 

Jim was parked nearby, and he tossed the bag into the bed of the truck. Pulling some money out of his wallet, Jim got into the truck, starting it and turning the heat on. He maneuvered them to the toll booth and paid an exorbitant fee, and soon they were on their way to dinner. 

* * *

Sitting in a back corner of the restaurant, they ordered their dinners, steaks with all the fixin's, salad and the anticipated artichoke and spinach dip. Sipping a beer, Jim rubbed his knee against Blair's. Without a word, Blair returned the caress. 

The dip came and they ate heartily, finishing it just before the salads arrived. Jim ordered them two more beers and dug into his salad, watching Blair enjoy the homemade dressing and beer bread. 

When the steaks came, Blair gladly pushed away the unfinished salad, eager for the wonderful flavor of the beef. It was done to perfection, medium well with just a hint of pink. They doctored their baked potatoes, Jim adding extra butter while Blair added sour cream. Eating in silence, they shared the closeness and smiled often. 

Jim finally paid the check, leaving a nice tip for their waitress. Picking up their to go box, Jim escorted Blair out, steering him with a hand to Blair's back. 

* * *

Blair was quiet on the way to the loft, relaxed. Jim watched him out of the corner of his eye, glad to have Blair back by his side. He knew from experience that Blair would need some serious relaxation before he could wind down enough to get the rest he needed; Jim was going to make sure Blair got that relaxation. 

Pulling into a spot, they got out, and Jim carried Blair's bag and the leftovers while Blair took care of unlocking the doors. Once inside the loft, Blair dropped his backpack on the floor near the table and just stood there. Jim set Blair's bag on the floor and slipped off his jacket, hanging it on a hook. He put the leftovers in the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. 

"Chief?" Jim asked softly, hand on Blair's shoulder. 

"'m here." 

Jim set the water bottle down and slowly slipped Blair's jacket off, draping it over the back of the couch. Turning Blair's pliant body around, Jim quickly stripped off Blair's clothes and ushered him into the bathroom. Waiting for the water to warm, Jim took of his own clothes, keeping an eye on Blair, watching as his eyes slowly drooped. 

Turning on the shower, Jim helped Blair in, taking care not to wet his hair; the shower was supposed to make Blair more comfortable, wash off the travel smell and help him sleep better. Quickly Jim soaped his hands and ran them all over Blair's body, trying to ignore the way both of their dicks hardened at the contact. Washing the soap off them both, Jim heard Blair's moan as their cocks came into contact. Suddenly he wanted the out of the shower and into bed for more than sleep. 

Turning the water off, Jim grabbed a towel and ran in quickly over his body, hitting the high spots before turning to Blair's dripping body. Jim tried to ignore Blair's erection, but his own made it nearly impossible. With one caress, Jim moved away and threw the towel over the bar to dry. 

Grabbing Blair's hand, Jim led him from the steamy room, pausing only long enough to grab the bottle of water before ascending the stairs. Pushing Blair into bed, Jim set the water within easy reach and followed Blair down. They kissed gently, but the kisses deepened, intensified when Blair thrust his hips against Jim's. 

"Okay, Chief, I get the message," Jim said, laughing between kisses as he worked his way down Blair's still damp chest. 

Without teasing too much, Jim took Blair's cock into his mouth, swallowing as much as he could. He continued to suck, moving to nurse the head as his hand stroked the shaft. With a quiet cry, Blair came, the muscles in his thighs trembling through the pleasure. 

Moving up over Blair, Jim licked the flat brown nipples, encouraging them to rise, and making Blair moan. Jim rubbed his needy cock against Blair's spent cock, amd hearing Blair moan again, Jim came. 

When he could finally think again, Jim moved down Blair's body and licked his spilt come from Blair's stomach and pubis. He once again moved up to kiss Blair, sharing their flavors, before rolling away. 

Grabbing the bottle of water, Jim took a long drink before recapping it. Making sure the alarm was set, Jim rolled over and curled around Blair's sleeping form and pulled the covers up over them. 

They slept peacefully, and when morning came, they got up and started another day. Their first stop was the cell phone store. 

The End. 

* * *

  
Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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